Cold Spark
by Sideslip
Summary: Prowl and Jazz have bonded but their relationship is far from perfect.
1. Chapter 1

(I do not own Transformers.)

The physical damage to the saboteur had been severe but not spark-threatening. It had taken Ratchet several cycles to make the repairs even with Wheeljack helping to fabricate new parts. Even with the new parts in place and the tears to plating welded together again, it still took more cycles to repair the damaged wires and circuits.

When Ratchet finally brought Jazz out of medical stasis the saboteur saw the medic carefully scanning him. The next mech Jazz saw was the tactician who was watching him closely. Jazz smiled at his lover while Ratchet completed his scans. He wondered if Prowl had felt as distraught as Jazz had after the seekers had nearly killed Prowl.

With a grunt and a nod Ratchet set down the scanner. "You're free to go, Jazz, but you are off duty for the next decacycle and light duty only for the next two decacycles after that."

"Thanks, Doc," Jazz said and grinned at Prowl.

"And don't either of you show up in here with broken fans, either," Ratchet yelled after them as he saw Jazz's servo slip to Prowl's aft as the couple left the medbay. Jazz was in pain from his injuries but laughed as a wrench went sailing by his helm.

"Ratchet ought to know 'facing is good medicine," Jazz mumbled giving Prowl's aft a light squeeze.

Prowl said nothing in response.

They returned to their quarters and once inside Jazz swept Prowl into a passionate kiss. At least he tried to. His lover was not very enthusiastic in his response which caused Jazz to reluctantly break the kiss and look at Prowl with concern.

"What's wrong, Prowler?" he asked softly as he brushed a servo along the tactician's check. "I know I was injured badly but I'm okay now." Jazz felt bad that he had worried his lover and bondmate.

Prowl looked at Jazz from underneath his striking chevron. Jazz wondered yet again if Prowl realized how attractive he was. Jazz looked into Prowl's optics trying hard to not let his own optics wander to Prowl's doorwings.

With his characteristic blank expression Prowl said, "I don't understand what happened, Jazz. You shouldn't have been severely injured at all. My calculations showed a 98.3 percent probability of complete success for your mission. For the remaining 1.7 percent the worst outcome should have resulted in only superficial injury. You…" He stopped when he noticed that Jazz was looking at him in a strange manner.

"Are ya serious, mech?" Jazz whispered. "I get injured while on a mission to gather information about Decepticon activity and the first thing ya say to me is that in all probability this shouldn't have happened?" Jazz stepped away from Prowl. "What about me?"

Prowl continued in his same neutral tone, "You know I never authorize a mission for anyone which has less than an 80 percent probability…" He was cut off by Jazz's raised voice.

"Probability! I want to know if ya care for me! Not if my life fits into yer probability calculations." Jazz took a step away from Prowl.

"Jazz, please," Prowl kept his voice calm but firm. "You are being unreasonable. I am simply concerned as to why my calculations were wrong. If there is a problem with my tactical processor it must be repaired before…"

"Oh, you need a repair alright, Prowl!" Jazz yelled.

Prowl inwardly cringed when he realized Jazz used his proper designation to address him and not the variant Jazz was so fond of.

"Jazz, it does no good to get upset over this…" Prowl tried to reason.

"Prowl, stop. Ya didn't even ask me how I was feeling when I onlined," Jazz said with a hard edge to his voice. "Ya just stood there running calculations through yer slagging processor! Is that all I am to ya? An equation in yer computations?"

Prowl raised on optic ridge and answered, "Actually Jazz, it's more like you are a variable in my computations. And a highly unpredictable one I might add…"

"Prowl! I can't believe this!" Jazz shouted. He pushed past Prowl to the door.

"Where are you going?" Prowl asked quietly.

The door opened and Jazz stepped out into the hall. He continued to shout even though there were other mechs in the hall. "Does it matter where I go? Why don't ya add this piece of information and run it through yer slagging tactical processor: ya have a cold spark, Prowl."

Prowl became completely motionless at the insult. Even his doorwings became still. He stared at his bondmate in shock. Neither noticed that the other mechs in the hallway were silently watching as well.

"I can't believe I thought this would work!" Jazz continued to shout. "I think I'll go have Ratchet check my processor to see how I can possibly continue to function with such a slagging glitch! Compute this, Prowl: it's over between us!"

Just like that, Jazz walked out. The door shut behind him leaving Prowl alone. He computed only a 4.6 percent chance that Jazz would come back. Then he winced as he realized this was the sort of behavior that had Jazz so angry. "Jazz…" he whispered to the empty room, "I do care about you…"


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 2 of ?)

Verse: G1 with references to WFC later

Rating: PG

Other Characters: Ratchet and Optimus

Warnings: cursing

Summary/Notes: This story takes place after "The Best Is Yet to Come". Even though Prowl and Jazz have bonded, their relationship is not perfect.

(I do not own Transformers.)

Prowl and Jazz had argued before but never like this. Their past arguments had always been short-lived. They would argue passionately and then make up even more passionately. Not this time. Prowl tried to reach out to Jazz through their bond but Jazz completely ignored Prowl. Prowl logically concluded that it couldn't be over between them since they were bonded. Prowl tried to point out how unreasonable Jazz was being. He tried to send comm messages, tried to catch Jazz in the rec room, even tried to find out where Jazz would recharge. Jazz was the head of special operations for a reason. He was an outstanding saboteur. Prowl now found himself on the wrong end of Jazz's professional skills and he didn't have a chance. Jazz was being exceptionally elusive.

Prowl never saw Jazz during the entire time the saboteur was recovering from his injuries. Prowl turned in on himself and completely threw himself into his work. No one noticed any difference expect for Optimus. The Autobot commander brought Prowl his energon. He would try to coax Prowl into returning to his own quarters for recharge but Prowl couldn't bear the idea of sleeping alone in the berth he had shared with Jazz. Optimus caught Prowl recharging at his desk twice but didn't mention it to the tactician.

Once Jazz's recovery time was over, Prowl knew he would at least see Jazz during the officer briefings. He had been making plans to corner the saboteur and demand that Jazz understand that by continuing his behavior he was causing Prowl to use 5.9 percent of his tactical processor's computing capacity just thinking over their current disagreement. Furthermore, Prowl noted a 16.4 percent decrease in the morale of the crew based on how there were more arguments in the rec room. This was simply intolerable. Prowl was about to go find Optimus and inform the commander that Prowl's own efficiency had decreased by 9.2 percent as a result of this mess. His thoughts were interrupted by Ratchet summoning him and Optimus to the medbay.

Prowl walked with purpose to the medbay. Perhaps Ratchet had hit Jazz over the helm with a wrench to force him to see that he was behaving in an immature manner. However, Prowl computed only a 12.9 percent chance that Jazz would be there when he arrived. Then he remembered that he still hadn't asked Ratchet to check his tactical processor. He still had no explanation for why Jazz had been injured so severely in the first place.

Prowl arrived in the medbay and was not surprised to see only Optimus and Ratchet there. Ratchet ushered Optimus and Prowl into his private office and sat down with a sigh. "I am allowing Jazz to return to active duty but both of you need to know that there is a problem."

Optimus looked quite concerned. He cared deeply for all of the mechs under his command but Jazz was also a close friend. On the other hand, Prowl was completely expressionless.

Both Optimus and Ratchet knew that Prowl and Jazz had an awful argument. The entire crew knew. There had been witnesses to the dramatic conclusion of their argument when Jazz had walked out on Prowl. Whispers had spread throughout the ship of the way Jazz had insulted Prowl. While Prowl was not the most sociable mech, sentiment was that Jazz had overreacted.

Ratchet addressed Optimus since he was at a loss for how to address Prowl. "Optimus, Jazz's physical damage has completely healed. I did notice however, that something seemed a bit off with his personality subroutines. I decided to run some further scans," Ratchet continued. "Everything was within normal limits but I decided to check the readings from today against the latest ones I had on file. There were some distinct anomalies that I can't account for."

Optimus interrupted at this point. "Why return him to duty if there is a problem?"

"Well, I just told you that the readings are still within normal limits," Ratchet growled.

Optimus tried again, having long ago learned to discount the medic's bluster. "What kind of anomalies did your scans reveal?"

Ratchet sighed again. "It appears that the traits that are characteristic of Jazz, his skills as a saboteur, most notably, have been enhanced or somehow magnified. Jazz is also known to be a somewhat volatile mech and that aspect of his personality is exaggerated as well."

"Really?" Prowl said sarcastically. He became still as his tactical processor took this new piece of information and revised the calculations for Jazz's prior mission. "Now it makes sense," he snarled. "With that fragger allowing his emotions to compromise his mission the probability of severe injury increases to 72.8 percent."

Ratchet was stunned at Prowl's behavior. "Slag, Prowl, how can you say that about your own bondma…" Ratchet had shouted at Prowl and then came to a sudden halt looking hard at the tactician. "You!" he shouted. "Into the medbay and on a berth! Now!"

Prowl jumped at the sudden command but complied. Ratchet ran some scans on Prowl with Optimus standing close by. "Slag," Ratchet murmured, "Prowl has the same type of anomaly in his personality subroutines but his involve the subroutines that deal with logic. His emotional subroutines are also affected."

Optimus nodded. "So, that is why Prowl has seemed so cold lately."

Prowl glared at his commander. "Optimus," Prowl scowled, "even though you are the commander, I would have only computed a 0.2 percent probability that you would accuse me of having a cold spark."

Ratchet scanned Optimus next and then himself. He shook his helm. "You and I are fine. Our readings are nearly identical to our baseline readings on file. I will check the rest of the crew as a precaution but I suspect this is a problem limited to Prowl and Jazz."

"I am right here, Ratchet. You need not discuss my condition with Optimus as if I was not here," Prowl growled.

Ratchet ignored Prowl and turned to Optimus.

Optimus asked the question for which Ratchet had no answer. "What is going on here, Ratchet?"

Ratchet hated times like this. He looked his commander in the optics, "I don't know, Prime. I just don't know."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 3 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC later  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: Ratchet, Optimus, and a surprise at the end  
Warnings: none

Summary/Notes: Prowl and Jazz refuse to attempt to work out their differences. Intervention is required.

(I do not own Transformers.)

Ratchet had been unable to find anything truly wrong with either Prowl or Jazz. He still had no explanation for the unusual readings from his scans. Ratchet ran complete scans on both of the officers and stored the results in their medical files. So far, he could only deduce that their personality subroutines had somehow been altered. Jazz made himself scarce. When he could be found, he tended to be extremely volatile. The crew was afraid of Jazz like this. Prowl tended to exhibit tendencies which exaggerated his analytical abilities. For the most part, the crew just found this annoying. More than usual. Optimus was very concerned.

Jazz was never seen in the rec room anymore and there hadn't been any parties lately, planned or spontaneous. The crew as a whole was suffering along with Prowl and Jazz. As the time lengthened over their continuing disagreement, the crew began to wonder if the rumors were true. They wondered if Jazz really had left Prowl for good.

* * *

Two orns went by with no word from Jazz beyond their entirely professional interactions. Prowl needed help. He needed Jazz back. Yes, he realized, he needed Jazz not just wanting him back. Prowl was nearly despondent over Jazz's absence from his daily life. His efficiency continued to drop.

Again Prowl thought back to their argument. True, Jazz had over-reacted but Prowl was responsible, too. Calling Jazz an unpredictable variable was probably not the kindest thing he could have said. Prowl couldn't ignore that the cold spark comment hurt, too. Prowl thought how he could possibly make this right but so far the answer had eluded him.

* * *

Prowl sat in his office. He tried to work on reports but he couldn't. He swiveled his chair to look at the picture of Jazz that hung on his wall. It was the picture he had drawn himself and was displayed at the ark gallery showing after Prowl had recovered from his near-fatal injuries caused by the seekers. The picture hung on the wall above the spot where Jazz had first overloaded Prowl strictly by stimulating his doorwings. Prowl hadn't had an overloaded since the awful argument with Jazz. His doorwings drooped low. He didn't know what to do. He didn't hear someone request to enter his office. He jumped when he heard his name.

"Prowl?"

Prowl quickly swung around and stood to greet his commanding officer.

"Relax Prowl," Optimus said gently. He approached and sat in one of the chairs across from Prowl and indicated for Prowl to resume his seat. He retracted his battle mask.

"Prowl, how long are you going to allow this to continue?" he asked kindly looking up at the picture of Jazz.

"Sir?" Prowl questioned. "Jazz won't respond to me. He shuts me out. Every time I try to explain…"

Optimus raised a servo to halt the tactician. He regarded Prowl for a bit. "You two are so alike," he chuckled.

Prowl flicked a doorwing in irritation. Optimus was getting personal. It was also clear he did not understand what had happened between Jazz and himself. Prowl didn't even understand it.

"We are not alike," Prowl said coolly.

"You are both stubborn pains in the aft," Optimus said candidly.

"But Jazz won't listen to me," Prowl protested petulantly.

Optimus sighed. Being in command certainly had its challenges. He was responsible for everyone under his command. The logistics of running an army were daunting. He was thankful for the exceptional staff he headed. Unfortunately, sometimes being a leader was more like being a human parent trying to resolve disputes between children. This was certainly one of those times. By this point, Optimus was quite tired of the argument between his officers. While it had been one thing to watch them dance around each other for vorns before they decided to acknowledge their feelings for each other, it was quite another to see them fighting. He was good friends with Jazz and had spoken to him often since the argument. Jazz was being stubborn and moody and Optimus was tired of it. He was good friends with Prowl as well and had to put up with Prowl's sullen silence. While Prowl was often silent, the sullen aspect grated on Optimus and he finally decided he had had enough. He had interfered before and he was going to interfere again. Optimus was inclined to lock Prowl and Jazz together in the brig until they settled this. True, he didn't understand what was going on between them but he did know they had to talk to each other and that was something he had not seen them do.

"Do you trust me?" Optimus asked the tactician.

"Of course, Optimus," Prowl responded.

"Then come with me. I'm going to take you to talk to someone who is the best at giving advice in this type of situation," he said as he stood and his battle mask returned to its place.

"You don't have advice for me?" Prowl questioned as he stood.

"I have advice but in this case you need to talk to someone with more experience in matters such as this," Optimus replied.

They left Prowl's office and took a short walk down the hall stopping at another door. Prowl stared at Optimus. "You can't be serious."

Optimus looked down at Prowl. "Go. I've called ahead on a private comm link. He's expecting you."

"You can't be serious," Prowl said again.

"Do I have to make it an order?" Optimus asked, threatening to pull rank.

Prowl sighed and requested entry. When it was granted, he stepped inside. He heard Optimus walk away as the door shut.

"Prowl," the mech seated at his desk greeted him. "Have a seat. We have much to discuss."

Prowl was mystified as to how Ironhide could help him with respect to Jazz.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 4 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC later  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: Ironhide  
Warnings: cursing

Summary/Notes: Optimus sends Prowl to Ironhide for relationship advice. (I cannot express how difficult it was to write this chapter. It got a little too close to home.)

(I do not own Transformers.)

Prowl sat down across from Ironhide and stared at the weapons specialist. While Prowl did greatly respect Ironhide as a soldier and a loyal Autobot, he was old and gruff and stubborn. Prowl computed that there was only a 5.8 percent probability that Ironhide could actually provide any advice to help Prowl with his current problem. With that thought in his processor, Prowl entertained the thought of ripping off Ironhide's plasma cannon and dumping the mangled weapon on Optimus' desk just to let Optimus know what Prowl thought of this. With a small sigh, Prowl's attention returned to the soldier and he noticed that Ironhide was quietly regarding him with knowing optics. That further focused the tactician's attention. Prowl realized he was missing something here.

* * *

Ironhide watched as Prowl sat down and he saw the range of thoughts that went through the tactician's processor. While he didn't know specifically what Prowl was thinking, he had a good idea that Prowl was tempted to leap over the desk and let Ironhide know what the tactician really thought about this situation. Fragged-off tacticians were known to be violent. The fact that Prowl (and Jazz) was suffering from some type of alteration to his personality subroutines clouded the issue. No matter what had triggered the current disagreement or the underlying reason for it, Ironhide still recognized some of the problems that Prowl and Jazz were facing. They had some relationship issues and their current medical mystery had only served force them to confront them sooner rather than later. While Ratchet would have to figure out the cause for the alterations, Ironhide knew that the problems at the root of their relationship needed a different kind of help. Utilizing patience which had been honed over a lifetime, Ironhide waited until Prowl's attention was finally drawn back to the office they sat in.

* * *

Prowl realized with a start that Ironhide was being very patient. That seemed strange from a mech that was prone to shoot first and ask questions later. Chromia. Ironhide was bonded to Chromia. That must have been why Optimus sent Prowl to speak to Ironhide. The problem was that Chromia was not on Earth. Prowl thought for a moment and wondered how long Ironhide and Chromia had been bonded. He realized that Ironhide had already been bonded to Chromia when the tactician first met the weapons specialist. This did not sit well with Prowl. If Ironhide could tolerate being so far apart from his bondmate for so long, what kind of relationship did they really have? Had their bond been weak from the start or had it broken down over time? Prowl recomputed the probability of Ironhide being able to help him and found it had been reduced to 2.1 percent. This was not at all encouraging.

* * *

Finally, Ironhide spoke. "You and Jazz are failin' to communicate," he said softly.

Prowl was ready to remove that plasma cannon slowly and painfully.

"Let me start by tellin' you about me and Chromia," he drawled.

* * *

It turned out that Ironhide was quite the romantic. Prowl would never have guessed the depth of his relationship with Chromia. They had been bonded longer than Prowl and Jazz's existence put together. Of course he and Chromia had argued, sometimes violently, as was the case between two warriors. Prowl just listened for a while as Ironhide spoke of his deep love for his mate. Even though Chromia was nowhere near Earth at the moment, Prowl noticed Ironhide pause briefly from time to time and Prowl recognized it as communication through his bond with his lover. Prowl was amazed they could do this across the vast distance that separated them. Their bond must have been exceptionally strong. Prowl had to admit he had been wrong about the strength of their bond. Prowl admired the strength of the bond and their obvious commitment.

Prowl could sense nothing through his bond with Jazz. They were on the same planet and it was almost as if they had never bonded. It nearly crushed Prowl's spark especially to know how strong a bond could be.

Ironhide finished speaking to both Prowl and Chromia and looked across his desk at the tactician. "Well?" he asked.

"Well what?" Prowl asked slightly annoyed.

"Ain't you going to ask how Chromia and me have managed to work things out?" Ironhide prompted.

"Very well," Prowl said. "How do you and Chromia make your relationship work after all this time and being so far apart?"

"You just saw it Prowl. We work at it," Ironhide said with a grin.

Prowl shook his helm. "I've tried. Jazz simply won't listen to me."

"He don't want to listen to you," Ironhide said gently.

"No offense, Ironhide, but you are stating the obvious," Prowl replied coolly.

"Prowl," Ironhide said softly, "you and Jazz were friends for a long time and then you quickly stepped into the role of lovers. That's fine. You even took the step of bondin'. That, as you know, is a profound step that no one completely understands, even those of us who have bonded."

Prowl nodded in misery. He certainly didn't understand what was happening at the moment with Jazz.

"Prowl, do you know where Jazz is right now?" Ironhide asked.

"No," Prowl answered sulkily. "Jazz is an exceptional saboteur. He helped design the security system here and knows how to work around it. He can evade all of the security cameras. Not even Red Alert knows where he has been hiding."

Ironhide slowly shook his helm. "Do you know where Jazz is right now?" he asked again.

"I already told you…" Prowl began but was cut off by the warrior.

"Where is Jazz right now?" Ironhide asked sternly.

Prowl went very still.

"Use your bond, Prowl. Jazz don't have to answer for you to find him," Ironhide said softly.

Prowl stared at Ironhide not quite comprehending what the old mech was saying.

Ironhide looked kindly at Prowl, "Use your bond to find him. Right now, sittin' here, search for him. Just allow yourself to find him."

Prowl sank into his seat but did as directed. He relaxed and didn't force anything through the bond. He allowed it to take him to Jazz. Even though his mate didn't reach through the bond to Prowl, the tactician could sense Jazz. Prowl yearned for the saboteur. He kept relaxed though and eventually discovered the storage closet where Jazz had set a recharge mat and was hiding in a miserable and lonely existence. "I know where his is," Prowl whispered in wonder.

"Good," Ironhide nodded.

"Now what?" Prowl asked.

Ironhide grinned, "Now, you are goin' to romance your mate until he returns to you."

Prowl could only stare at Ironhide. His tactical processor had locked up.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you again for the reviews. They are important to me. My muse is fickle. Three weeks to write the previous chapter and only three days to write this one?

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 5 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC later  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: brief mentions of Ratchet, Optimus, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker  
Warnings: cursing, brief implied violence  
Summary/Notes: This is Jazz's perspective on the matter.

(I do not own Transformers.)

Jazz had been too depressed to notice Prowl gently searching through their bond for him. He was sitting on his recharge mat in the storage closet he was using as his personal quarters. Jazz knew he would eventually have to find somewhere else to recharge but for now he was perfectly willing to nurture his sorrow. He turned over the events surrounding his argument with Prowl in his processor yet again. He knew that he had hurt Prowl deeply by calling him cold-sparked. Jazz had been hurt deeply as well. He knew that Prowl was shy in public when it came to expressing affection but usually in private Prowl was anything but shy. Jazz hadn't expected a reaction from Prowl when Jazz had groped his mate's aft when they left the medbay. He knew Ratchet was watching and Prowl would act like nothing was happening. Once they had returned to their quarters though, he had expected Prowl would show his passionate side and let Jazz know that Prowl had been concerned for his mate. Instead, Jazz had been shocked that Prowl had stood in their quarters and wondered why Jazz had been injured in the first place. Prowl then had the audacity to tell Jazz that he was an unpredictable variable in Prowl's equations when he computed mission outcome probabilities. Of course Jazz knew that he was unpredictable but that wasn't the point. Jazz had expected Prowl to draw close to him, kiss him, and make Jazz forget all about the failed mission. When that didn't happen, something snapped inside of Jazz. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it. Even though Jazz knew that Prowl cared for him, he was surprised that Prowl did not show it. That hurt. As Jazz stormed down the hallway in anger, he closed off the bond to Prowl as much as possible.

Jazz sighed at the bitter memory and left the cramped storage closet. He timed his movements so that he could evade all of the security sensors until he arrived at the hallway leading to his office. He went to his office and prepared for the upcoming officers' briefing. Jazz could certainly see how Prowl had been able to lose himself in his work for all of those vorns before they bonded. If Jazz concentrated on thinking about reports and missions then he wouldn't be thinking about Prowl. At least he wouldn't be thinking about Prowl as much.

Jazz checked his internal chronometer and realized that he had to get going so he wouldn't be late for the briefing. He had managed to lose himself in his work for at least a little while. Since he had bonded with Prowl he understood the source of the tactician's pain. To lose one's home to war was a terrible thing. Prowl had lost everything and nearly everyone that had meant anything to him. That was immediately followed by a series of unfortunate events which had resulted in Prowl becoming the efficient yet cold tactician he was now. Jazz really did understand and knew how deeply Prowl felt for everyone. He just couldn't get past the alterations to his own personality subroutines to reconcile everything. He hoped Ratchet would figure out this mess soon. Jazz was a mech that wanted answers.

Jazz silently slipped into the briefing room and Optimus started the meeting only a klick later. Prowl was sitting across from Jazz as usual but was not looking at the saboteur. Prowl was focused intently on either Optimus or his data pads. The meeting progressed normally. In fact, Jazz hadn't noticed anything unusual until he was back in his office working on a new mission plan. Jazz suddenly stilled with the realization that Prowl had not tried to reach through their bond. Prowl had not tried to corner Jazz after the meeting. When the briefing was over, Prowl had gathered his data pads, stood, and walked out with his usual grace. Jazz stared down at the data pad in his servos and groaned. Prowl had stopped trying. Unfortunately, as much as Jazz wanted to walk over to Prowl's office and try to make this right, he was overcome by the fear that he had waited too long and that the rift between them had become too great.

Jazz pulled his thoughts back to the task before him and completed his mission plan. He dropped it off at Optimus' office before returning to the storage closet again bypassing all of the sensors. He had sneaked unseen into the rec room along the way and obtained a cube of energon. Sitting on his recharge mat Jazz slowly sipped at the cube. The energon churned in his tank. He struggled to not purge and then fell into a fitful recharge.

Such was Jazz's existence cycle after cycle. Eventually, after an entire orn had passed, Jazz was convinced that it was indeed over with Prowl. Jazz's world did in fact become just existence. He continued to do his job and did it exceptionally well. In fact, Jazz became an even more formidable force against the Decepticons. The Autobots won every single battle during that time. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had even half-joked that Jazz had become as cold as Prowl. No one joked when the twins ended up in the medbay afterwards. As much as the crew loved Jazz and his usually easygoing manner, it was clearly unwise to frag with a saboteur with altered personality subroutines.

At one point Jazz actually watched Prowl for an entire cycle just to see how Prowl was dealing with the situation. He was a saboteur, after all, and no one knew that he was watching. Prowl carried on exactly as he had before he and Jazz had become intimate. Jazz considered opening the bond between them wide open again just so that Prowl would feel the pain Jazz felt within his own spark. Jazz was many things, not all of them good, but he decided to keep the bond as narrow as possible and to keep the pain to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for the reviews. I truly appreciate them. Had some computer problems recently but I think they are now resolved.

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 6 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC later  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: Ironhide, Blaster, mention of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker  
Warnings: none  
Summary/Notes: The misunderstandings continue…

(I do not own Transformers.)

Jazz entered his office. It was another cycle. It had started exactly like every other cycle for the past deca-cycle. Something was a bit different this time. A data chip sat on his desk. It had no markings and no indication of who it was from. Jazz looked at it warily and picked it up. He turned it over in his servos and still had no idea what it contained or who had put it there. Jazz slipped the data chip into his console and ran a virus scan. When it came up clean, he opened the files and checked the contents. It contained music files. In fact, it was the new release of one of his favorite bands. Jazz checked his internal chronometer and discovered that because of his argument with Prowl he had forgotten all about the release dates for new music. He shook his head and smiled for the first time in orns.

* * *

Two cycles later Jazz actually made an appearance in the rec room. He had been drawn there by the music. Apparently, the others on the base had gotten tired of waiting for Jazz to throw a party and they had put together their own impromptu celebration over the latest victory over the Decepticons. Blaster was supplying the music and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had produced a modest amount of high grade. When Jazz had entered the room everyone in the rec room paused and almost looked guilty for partaking in a party that had not been organized by Jazz. A small smile crossed his face and he walked over the Blaster. He handed the new data chip over to his friend and Blaster started playing the music. At that, everyone in the room relaxed and went back to their socializing. Jazz gently tapped Blaster's arm, thanked him for giving him the music, and wandered over to a group of mechs. Jazz did not notice the puzzled look on Blaster's face.

* * *

Prowl sat in Ironhide's office. He was clearly annoyed. "I thought special ops mechs were supposed to be smart," he growled.

Ironhide sat quietly and waited for Prowl to continue.

"It has been three cycles now and Jazz hasn't mentioned the music files," Prowl complained. "I'm not expecting a simple gift to fix everything but he could at least say thank you."

Ironhide raised an optic ridge. Prowl was right. It wasn't like Jazz to not acknowledge a gift even if he wasn't on good terms with Prowl at the moment. "What exactly did you do, Prowl?" he asked.

Prowl glared at the weapons specialist. "I left a data chip with some music from one of his favorite bands on his desk."

Ironhide immediately suspected what the problem was. "Did you leave a note?"

Prowl looked hard at Ironhide. "Of course not. You said the last time I spoke to you that in order to romance Jazz that I had to pay attention to his particular likes and behave in a way that would be endearing to him. I sneaked into his office and left the data chip. I thought he would try to figure out who had left it. Saboteurs like to solve puzzles."

Ironhide's helm hit his desk. He had been at the party the previous cycle. He saw Jazz hand a data chip to Blaster and had figured out what had happened. "Prowl," he muttered, "I think that Jazz believes that Blaster gave him the chip."

Prowl stared at Ironhide completely expressionlessly. "That is not logical, Ironhide. Why would anyone else but me give a gift to Jazz?" he asked.

"Prowl," Ironhide growled, "Jazz does have friends. He probably thought Blaster was trying to cheer him up since they both enjoy music." Ironhide hated that he had to spell everything out for the tactician. He couldn't help but ask, "How did you manage to become SIC?"

Prowl replied evenly, "I had the best qualifications to be a tactician."

Ironhide shook his helm. "Never mind," he grumbled. "You are going to have to try again and this time you will have to leave a note or some way to tell Jazz that the gift is from you."

Prowl huffed quietly. It had taken him quite a while to figure out what to give to Jazz that would be personal and meaningful. He was frustrated that his initial effort had resulted in nothing. Now he had to think of something else. He sent the problem to his tactical processor to work out a new plan. He was determined to not fail this time.

* * *

Jazz wearily entered his office. While the most recent engagement against the Decepticons had gone well, there had still been a number of minor injuries. Then there had been the reports and the seemingly endless paperwork. He had turned in the last data pads to Optimus and returned to his office just to make sure there wasn't anything else he had to do before leaving to return to his makeshift quarters. He really didn't want to go there but he didn't want to stay in his office either. He took a quick glance at his desk and froze. A glowing cube of high grade sat in the middle of his desk. He smiled and murmured to himself, "Sunny and Sides. Ya two always know how to cheer up a mech."

Jazz carefully picked up the cube and carried it to the storage closet where he recharged. He sat down on his recharge mat and reached for a novel. He read for a bit before lifting the cube to his lips and taking a sip. He savored the sweet smooth taste and then looked down at the cube with a curious expression. This was not a cube of the twins' homebrew that he was holding in his servo. This was an aged blend. He could detect the faint taste of minerals not found on earth. This was a blend which had been produced on Cybertron. While there were a number of mechs who had Cybertronian high grade stashed in their quarters, and even a few who had some of the highly desirable Vosnian high grade, there was only one who had a meager supply of Praxian high grade. "Prowl," Jazz whispered.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 7 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: Ratchet, Hound, Wheeljack, mention of Optimus and Megatron  
Warnings: statement of RatchetxWheeljack  
Summary/Notes: Ratchet is still trying to figure out what happened and Jazz receives his own "relationship counseling"

(I do not own Transformers.)

Ratchet stared at his monitor. He didn't see the characters on the screen as he was lost in his own thoughts. He had been looking at the scans he had taken of Prowl and Jazz. He could clearly see the differences between the scans taken before and after the horrible argument which had taken place. He didn't understand what they meant. He had never seen anything like this before. Ratchet was an experienced medic and he had seen many things. It was interesting when he encountered something he hadn't seen before but this bothered him because he had no solution. He didn't have a theory to work from. He slammed a servo on the desk and shut off the monitor. He leaned back in his chair and shook his helm. Perhaps a break was in order. He stood up and left his office. He went to the rec room and picked up a cube of energon. He considered returning to his office but decided to linger instead. He spoke to some of the other mech which were there and then noticed that Hound was watching television at the far end of the rec room. Ratchet wasn't close friends with Hound but he certainly did admire how the scout had adapted to their new home. Hound seemed to fit right in and took everything in stride. Ratchet hadn't even noticed that he had made his way over to where Hound was sitting. Ratchet watched the television while taking a drink from his cube. The medic was not surprised that Hound was watching a nature program. Ratchet only paid partial attention to it. He didn't notice at first when Hound addressed him.

"Hmmm?" Ratchet asked turning his full attention to the scout.

"Ratchet, isn't this planet amazing? There is so much life here. Look at this," Hound said, gesturing to the television screen. "There are places in the ocean that receive no sunlight and still, life finds a way. These sea creatures depend on vents which heat the surrounding water. We could learn so much if we just paid attention to our surroundings. Instead, we have to fight this endless war with the Decepticons and miss so much in the process."

Ratchet nodded and watched the program for a bit. It was interesting and it was nice for a change to relax a bit and just let his processor wander. The process of life had been so much simpler on Cybertron. Every one of them had emerged from the Well of Sparks. The caste system had determined their role in society from the day of emergence. It hadn't been right, Ratchet reflected. Change had been needed but while Optimus had been convinced that change could be brought about peacefully, Megatron had decided that war was the only way to bring about change.

Ratchet sighed, finished his cube, excused himself, and wandered back to his office. Perhaps the break would help him have a fresh perspective on the problem with Prowl and Jazz. He had the scans indicating that something was wrong but he could not isolate a cause. Ratchet was tempted to simply tell Prowl and Jazz that they had acquired some type of virus and they would have to wait for it to resolve itself. After all, that seemed to be how human medics handled this type of situation when they were faced with something they could not explain.

* * *

Jazz came out of recharge feeling better than he had in a long time. He remained still for a while thinking about the previous evening. Jazz had savored every bit of the Praxian high grade that Prowl had left for him. Afterwards he had leaned back on his recharge mat and relaxed. The high grade settled nicely in his tank. He had tasted Praxian high grade before the destruction of Praxus and had enjoyed it immensely. Prowl had a small supply of it in his quarters. The only occasion he was aware of Prowl having any of it was after they had bonded. Prowl had carefully poured each of them a cube and they savored the refined taste together before joining their sparks again. Jazz knew that this had been a message from Prowl. The tactician wanted Jazz back. Jazz smiled for a moment and then frowned as he wondered how many computations Prowl had run before thinking up this idea. Then the frown turned into a snarl as Jazz realized he was thinking irrationally again. He just couldn't help it. He could not understand why his processor kept twisting everything about Prowl. Jazz really wanted to go to Prowl and properly thank him for the gift but he was suddenly afraid that if he did he would say something he would regret and undo whatever progress had been made up to that point.

Jazz wearily made his way through the base avoiding detection until he was standing at the door to the rec room. He went inside and got his energon. He glanced around the room and noticed Wheeljack sitting by himself. Jazz approached and asked to sit. Wheeljack seemed more than happy to have some company. Jazz sat and slowly sipped his energon. Wheeljack watched for a bit and was distressed at how the normally jovial mech had changed so much. Finally, the engineer probed, "Has Ratchet figured anything out yet?"

The question surprised Jazz a bit. He was expecting Wheeljack to ask about Prowl. "Nah," Jazz answered. Then Jazz paused and said, "Jack, I wish he did. I'm so slaggin' frustrated by all of this." Before Jazz realized it, he had told the engineer about the energon Prowl had left for him and how he struggled with what to do next. Finally, he said, "I want to make things right between Prowl and me but I'm afraid I'll get annoyed at Prowl and mess it up."

Wheeljack sat silently for a bit. His fins lit up and he smiled, "You know, Jazz, there are a number of things that annoy me about Ratchet but I set them aside."

Jazz shrugged and replied, "Ratchet annoys everyone, Jack. Ya have to let it roll off."

"That's not what I meant, Jazz," Wheeljack said looking at the saboteur with a steady gaze. "The one thing that bothers me the most about Ratchet is how he refuses to bond."

Jazz began to grow impatient with the engineer. "Ratchet hates sparkbonds. Everyone knows that."

Wheeljack sighed. "Jazz, I think whatever this problem is that you and Prowl are having is slowing down your processor. Ratchet won't bond with me. I've learned though to deal with it because Ratchet has proved to be the most faithful mech I've ever encountered."

Jazz could only stare at Wheeljack. Eventually he found his vocalizer again. "Ya mean… ya and Ratchet… are… a couple?"

Wheeljack smiled. "We have been for a long time. Since before the war began. Jazz, my advice to you is to take this slow. As much as you want to demonstrate how you feel, you are quite volatile right now. Start by telling Prowl that you appreciate the gift. Knowing Prowl, it will be enough. For now."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 8 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: Ironhide, Wheeljack; mention of Ratchet, Red Alert, and Optimus  
Warnings: statement of RatchetxWheeljack  
Summary/Notes: Prowl and Jazz are finally alone together

(I do not own Transformers.)

The officers' briefing was uneventful. Ironhide provided the results from the most recent battle drill. Ratchet noted the latest injuries, all of them minor. Wheeljack gave the status of his latest experiments. Red Alert provided a detailed report of the latest security infractions. Prowl gave his usual dry tactical report. Jazz reported which mechs were scheduled for upcoming spy missions. Optimus concluded the meeting and the various officers wandered out of the room. Prowl spoke quietly to Optimus about an upcoming meeting they had later in the cycle. Jazz waited patiently by the door. When Prowl and Optimus were done, Optimus glanced over at Jazz then back at Prowl and took that as his cue to leave. He exited with startling swiftness leaving the tactician and the saboteur alone in the briefing room with the door shutting behind Optimus.

Prowl stood on the opposite side of the room from Jazz and regarded his bondmate with an expressionless gaze. He really did miss Jazz. Prowl had eventually returned to recharging in their berth but it felt far too large without Jazz beside him. His tactical processor was unable to compute any probability about what Jazz would say now that they were alone. Prowl had discovered that as far as Jazz was concerned, his processor could no longer factor the saboteur into his equations. He wasn't sure what to make of that. It worried him that it meant Jazz had somehow slipped away from him. Prowl then noticed that Jazz was shifting a bit nervously from ped to ped. Jazz was nervous?

Jazz looked at Prowl and could barely contain the longing he felt for his bondmate. He could not explain why his emotions were so confused as far as Prowl was concerned. He had always been confident before when he was around Prowl and now he was completely unsure of himself. Did that mean that everything had spiraled out of control and there was no chance of reconciliation? Jazz then noticed that Prowl did not have the look in his optics that meant his tactical processor was working probabilities. Prowl was not computing his next move?

They both arrived at their internal questions at the same time and locked optics. Each took a hesitant step towards the other. They took a few more slow steps until they met in the middle of the room separated only by an arm length.

"Prowl," Jazz began nervously, "thank ya for the Praxian high grade."

It was a simple and succinct statement and Prowl found that he was pleased by it. "You are welcome."

Jazz shifted again and nervously chuckled. "Some music files showed up on my desk. I thought they were from Blaster but I guess they were from ya, too?"

Prowl nodded. "Yes," he replied.

Jazz sighed. "Sorry. I would have thanked ya sooner if I had known they were from ya."

Prowl looked down for a moment. "I forgot to leave a note."

Jazz gave a small smile. He pulled out a chair. "We sure made a mess of this and I'm not even sure why." He gestured to the chair, "Do ya want to just… talk?"

Prowl checked his schedule and saw he had no meetings for several joors. He pulled out his own chair next to Jazz and sat down.

Jazz sat down as well. They sat beside each other with their chairs slightly turned toward the other. They proceeded to spend the next two joors talking to each other. Neither made any attempt to touch the other or move any closer. They did not reach any resolution to their current situation but they did at least agree to talk more together. They even took the step of marking their schedules to talk after the officers' briefings.

* * *

Ironhide leaned back in his chair. "This is great," he smiled. "I'm glad to hear that the two of you are at least tryin' to talk. It don't have to be about your relationship every time you talk. Right now, just the fact that you're talkin' is enough."

Prowl looked at Ironhide and decided to tell him part of what was troubling him. "Ironhide," he began carefully, "my tactical processor is unable to incorporate Jazz into any of my probability computations anymore." He frowned at the look Ironhide gave him, trying to think how he could rephrase the statement in a way that the weapons specialist could understand better. "I can't predict anymore what Jazz will do or say next."

Ironhide grinned at the tactician. "Good," he said simply.

"Good?" Prowl questioned.

"Yes," Ironhide replied. "Relationships should not be predictable. Keeps things excitin'." He could tell Prowl was not pleased with this answer. He decided to try again. "Try somethin' different, Prowl. For the next couple of cycles, try not to anticipate what Jazz will do or say. Just deal with him in the moment."

Prowl didn't like the suggestion but to get Jazz back, he was willing to do anything. "I'll try," he said quietly.

* * *

Jazz wandered into the rec room and spotted Wheeljack. He grabbed a cube of energon and approached the engineer. Wheeljack's fins lit up at the sight of the saboteur and motioned for Jazz to take a seat. Jazz gracefully sat down and took a sip of his cube. "Thanks fer the advice. I just told Prowl 'thank ya' and ya were right. It was enough. We sat down and talked for a while after that."

Wheeljack beamed. "I'm glad to help. Ratchet and I spend more nights talking than interfacing."

Jazz gave the engineer a sour look. "That's a little too much information, Jack."

"I'm just trying to help, Jazz. Look, I know when a relationship is new that all you want to do is interface but you have to talk for the relationship to endure." Wheeljack knew he was getting a bit personal but he was willing to endure a bit of embarrassment to help his friends. "Keep talking to him, Jazz. Keep talking."


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 9 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC  
Rating: PG  
Other Characters: Ironhide  
Warnings: none  
Summary: Start with the small things…

A/N: My muse refused to cooperate with me for the longest time with this. I had an outline and then she deviated from it. I think we are back on track now. I hope to have this wrapped up in another few chapters but there will be room for a sequel. The reason for the altered subroutines will be revealed but just because Ratchet figures out the why it doesn't mean the problem is solved.

(I do not own Transformers.)

* * *

Jazz returned to his office after his talk with Prowl and worked on reports until well after his shift ended. He returned to the storage closet which served as his temporary quarters being careful to avoid the security sensors. He still didn't want anyone to know where he hid. He settled down for recharge and thought about his conversation with Prowl. He was still filled with conflicting emotions regarding his bondmate but he was pleased with himself for managing to keep control over them. He wondered if Ratchet would ever figure out what had triggered this entire mess in the first place.

* * *

When Jazz onlined he felt better than he had since his fight with Prowl started. He thought for the first time that perhaps they could work their way through this. He desperately missed Prowl. He liked to be around Prowl and he had to admit, interfacing with Prowl was hot. Had he really accused Prowl of having a cold spark? Jazz sighed. He knew that in the berth his bondmate was the most passionate mech he'd ever known. He felt his systems heat up as he recalled how incredible it looked the first time he saw Prowl overload. The Praxian looked incredible any time he overloaded. Pit, he just looked incredible.

Frustrated that he didn't have time to release the charge that had built up in his systems from thinking about Prowl, he slipped out of the storage closet and made his way to his office. On his desk was a data chip with more music files. This time there was a brief note indicating that it was from Prowl. He sat in his chair for quite some time thinking about what he should do. Because of the influence of his altered emotional subroutines, he decided he would not give in easily. He was going to make Prowl work for his spark. He knew though that he would, eventually, give in to his mate's attempts to restore their relationship.

* * *

Prowl loved Jazz so much that he did work for the saboteur's spark. He realized quickly that Jazz had figured out what he was doing. Ironhide assured the tactician this was normal and with persistence Jazz would eventually return to him. The SIC decided to simply enjoy all of the small ways he could show his bondmate how he felt. Prowl felt a bit out-of-character at times but Ironhide had told him that Jazz would appreciate it if he could demonstrate he was willing to endure some discomfort to win back the mech he loved.

Besides random gifts of music and high grade, Prowl also subtly adjusted Jazz's duty shifts. The TIC noticed he had less monitor duty and when he checked the roster he discovered that Prowl had taken on his shifts even though it meant double shifts for the tactician. Jazz noticed a bit less in the way of reports as well. Prowl would never overstep his authority by doing Jazz's reports for him but he did notice he had to hunt less for supporting material when he wrote his reports.

Still, despite all of Prowl's efforts, the saboteur remained obstinate. They did continue to talk after officer briefings and Jazz would thank Prowl for each gift. The tactician was becoming very confused. He sat in weapons specialist's office and shook his helm. "I love him, Ironhide. I've done all kinds of little things for him but he still hasn't come back to me."

The warrior regarded the tactician quietly. In a soft voice he said, "Then it's time you did something big."

* * *

Jazz sat on his recharge mat and read. He tried to anyway. He felt a pang of guilt that Prowl had done so much for him and he was being stubborn about it. Pit, was Ratchet ever going to figure this out? A soft knock made him look up. No one knew where he hid. He got up and opened the door shocked to see Prowl standing there.

"Jazz," the tactician whispered.

The saboteur stood silently waiting to hear what his bondmate had to say.

Prowl was relieved that Jazz was at least waiting especially since he appeared at the other's secret hiding spot. He had a chance and he took it. "Jazz?" he asked. "Would you go on a date with me? I have backstage passes to your favorite band. They will be in a concert not far from here tomorrow night."

Jazz looked at Prowl. Primus, he was really trying to win back Jazz's spark. "Yeah, Ah'll go with ya. Ah'll see ya tomorrow night." Then Jazz shut the door, leaned against it, and smiled. It may have seemed rude to dismiss Prowl like that but if he hadn't he would have swept the Praxian in his arms and kissed him senseless. He wanted to do that but he wasn't quite ready yet. Frag those emotional subroutines!

Prowl stared at the closed door and sighed. At least Jazz had agreed to go. He had hoped to convince him to return to their quarters but it was not to be. He sighed again and returned to his office to adjust the duty roster to allow Jazz and himself to go to the concert. For once, he did not engage his tactical processor in determining the probability of reconciliation with his bondmate.

* * *

Jazz didn't know how Prowl had secured the backstage passes but he was glad his bondmate managed to acquire them. He was enjoying the music immensely. He had been able to chat with the band before the concert and watch in wonder at the finely tuned action which occurred behind the scenes. He knew Prowl didn't care for this style of music but every time he looked at him, the tactician would smile. Although they still had not resumed communicating through their bond he was talking through a private comm link.

/This is great, Prowl./

/I'm glad you are enjoying yourself./

/Hey, ya look like yer havin' fun, too./

Prowl smiled again. /I'm with you, Jazz. That's all that matters./

Jazz's attention was pulled away from the syrupy sentiment as the band launched into his favorite song. Prowl was content to watch his bondmate enjoy the evening, happy to be with Jazz even though it was at a great personal cost. The tactician never let on how badly his doorwings were hurting from the loud music.

After the concert, they slowly returned to base with Prowl set the pace. He wasn't going slowly because of romantic intentions but because his doorwings hurt so badly that the air flow over his doors was painful. Eventually, they reached the entrance of the base and transformed out of vehicle modes. Despite the pain Prowl smiled and thanked the saboteur for the date. Jazz thanked his bondmate in return and to the Praxian's relief, he sauntered off to his makeshift quarters humming the tune to his favorite song. As much as Prowl hoped the other would follow, he was glad to return alone to their quarters. In the dark and silence Prowl collapsed on the berth and sobbed in pain and loneliness until he slipped into recharge.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 10 of ?)  
Verse: G1 with references to WFC  
Rating: M  
Characters: Prowl and Jazz, Ratchet, Optimus, mention of Hound  
Warnings: intimacy and hinted violence  
Summary: After the concert, some surprising events take place

A/N: I have not abandoned this story. I got lost for a while and I had some serious writer's block. Real life also prevented me from working on this.

(I do not own Transformers.)

* * *

As Prowl slowly onlined he was glad he had taken the day off. His doorwings were stiff and ached terribly. His audio receptors still rang despite lowering their sensitivity at the concert. How humans endured that, even seemed to enjoy it, was beyond him.

Sighing deeply, he decided to remain still for a bit before attempting to move his doorwings. As he lay on his front with his doorwings splayed to the sides, he became aware of something else. He realized with joy that he could once again feel Jazz through their bond. He relaxed into the sensation and savored feeling his mate's presence again.

It was at that point that he also realized something was very wrong. He gasped and jumped when he felt a gentle magnetic pulse on his back between his doorwings. That is, he would have jumped if he hadn't been chained to the berth. His optics flashed online and he stared at the chains holding his wrists and shuddered at the soft clinking sound they made as he tried to move.

"Relax, Prowl." Jazz spoke barely above a whisper behind him. Prowl did as he was told and was rewarded with another gentle magnetic pulse. Knowing his bondmate was with him again he relaxed into the touch with a content sigh.

Jazz was quiet while he worked on his Praxian's back and doorwings, gently soothing the aches and stiffness out with magnetic pulses and tender touches. Despite being restrained it felt so good to be touched again. Prowl relaxed and nearly slipped back into recharge under the saboteur's skillful servos.

"Better?" Jazz asked softly some time later.

"Much."

"Ya didn't tell meh last night how bad ya were hurting."

"I'd do anything for you. I could bear the pain knowing you were with me," Prowl answered.

"I'm sorry I behaved like a total aft." Jazz paused for a moment clearly struggling with whatever it was that was affecting his personality subroutines. "You're not a sparkless drone. I understand that you try to keep everyone safe."

Recognizing that his bondmate struggled with the apology, he decided the best course of action was to simply move on. "So," Prowl said softly, "since we got that settled, are you going to undo these chains?" The chains softly clinked again as he tried to move.

Jazz leaned up behind the bound mech settling carefully between the doorwings gently pinning his bondmate. "No," he whispered into Prowl's audio sensor.

Prowl wasn't sure what the other mech had planned but he knew he was up to something. Carefully probing the bond he felt that the chaos which was Jazz was even more intense than usual. The tactician struggled on a good day to make sense of what his bondmate thought and felt; this was beyond his comprehension. He shuddered as he felt Jazz's servo lazily trace along one doorwing.

"Prowl," the saboteur said quietly but with a slight edge to his voice. "Ya hurt mah feelings. Ah got mad because ya were hiding behind calculations instead of telling meh ya had been worried. Ah forgive ya though. Ya gotta learn it's okay to talk to meh and tell meh how ya feel."

Prowl nodded and remembered how Ironhide told him that a solid lasting relationship took work. Taking Jazz's comments to spark he softly said, "I have been receiving counseling about relationships. Would you be willing to go with me so we can get some help together?"

Jazz was stunned at this piece of information and then deeply touched when he realized how seriously his bondmate really did take their relationship. "Of course Ah will," he replied. "Ya really do care, don't ya?"

"Yes, I do."

"So, who has been giving ya advice?"

Prowl chuckled somewhat embarrassed by what he was about to say. "Optimus made me talk to Ironhide."

The saboteur laughed softly. "Of course. Old 'Hide and Chromia have been a bonded pair since before either of us emerged from the Well."

"You knew?" Prowl asked incredulously.

"Ah knew they had a solid relationship. Long time ago Ah tried to come onto 'Hide and Chromia just about gave meh a new exhaust port."

They shared a laugh and smiled at one another.

Jazz gently kissed the back of the Praxian's helm. "Still doesn't change the fact that Ah have to punish ya," he said in a sultry voice.

Prowl shuddered and shifted to get more comfortable. He felt Jazz shift above him and his fans kicked on as he felt digits gently stroke along a doorwing.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Oh," Jazz drawled as a servo slowly trailed down the panel to Prowl's back. "Ah think we'll find out just how hot Ah can get ya just to make sure there is no trace of coldness in yer spark."

Prowl gasped as digits worked into his doorwing joints and pinched the wires there. He then whined when they withdrew. He arched and moaned as he felt Jazz's glossa work into the same joint feeling his skillful glossa lick against the wires. He whimpered when the sensation stopped. Jazz sat up, straddled his mate's waist, and played with the sensitive edges of Prowl's doorwings. He did that for quite some time until the mech beneath him could only groan in pleasure. Once he was sure that his Praxian was helpless to his whims he began to unleash strong pulses through the magnetic emitters in his servos taking care to stimulate every bit of Prowl's doorwings and groping deeply into the joints where they connected to Prowl's back. Groans became passionate cries which eventually dissolved into shameless begging for release. Prowl's plating grew hot to the touch and he was oblivious to one of his fans seizing and shattering in its housing. Jazz made sure to not allow him to overload. The saboteur teased his mate relentlessly building up his passion almost to the point of release but denied him overload by masterfully holding him right at the edge. He pushed deeply through the bond to sense exactly where Prowl was in his arousal. He was dimly aware of his mate's own altered subroutines but didn't stop to consider it at the time. Finally, when Prowl couldn't take it anymore and overheat warnings flooded his processor with circuits on the verge of shorting out from excess charge, Jazz gently but firmly plunged his servos into the doorwing joints and sent a powerful magnetic burst through them which directly spread into those magnificent doorwings. Prowl screamed Jazz's name as overload crashed over him violently. "That's right Prowl," he moaned at the sight. "Scream my name, overload, long and hard!" The glorious noise was followed by silence as the mech promptly offlined.

* * *

Prowl onlined on his side feeling the pleasant after effects of the longest and hardest overload he had ever experienced. The chains were gone. Jazz was still there though nestled between his doorwings and slowly rubbing his abdominal plates.

"Ya should've seen yerself Prowler," Jazz whispered. "Ah never get tired of seeing ya overload."

Prowl relaxed against his lover who was again calling him by his modified name. He knew he had been forgiven.

"Are ya okay?" Jazz asked tenderly.

"Yes, except that Ratchet is going to throw a wrench at me for breaking a fan."

"Two fans. The second went while ya overloaded." He moved so Prowl could carefully roll over to face his mate. The tactician cupped a servo over his mate's cheekplate and looked into his visor. "I love you so much," he said with sincerity.

"Mmm, now that's more like it," Jazz purred. "Love ya too."

"Jazz?"

"Hmmm?"

"I really missed you."

"Ah missed ya too."

Unexpectedly Prowl grasped one of his lover's sensory horns and leaned up a bit to kiss the other.

"Ngh, Prowler, what are ya doing?"

Between kisses he growled, "What does it feel like I'm doing, Jazz?" He licked up along the horn causing the saboteur to shiver.

"You yourself admitted you were behaving like an aft. When someone on the crew steps out of line, they must be disciplined." He paused to suckle the horn for a moment. "I am going to teach you never to call me cold again." This last remark was spoken in a chilling voice which caused Jazz to stare at his mate. If he hadn't been bonded to the mech the tone would have frozen his spark in fear. As it was, he was stunned at the unexpected behavior Prowl was exhibiting.

Prowl straddled his mate making sure to grind their hips slowly. He then opened his interface panel and drew out the cable. He looked at Jazz. "Open it," he commanded. The saboteur was curious where his mate was taking this. He had never displayed such dominant behavior in the berth before and Jazz found it highly arousing. He decided it was an attempt to work at their relationship and ignored the seemingly spurious lines of code he detected.

Jazz's panel opened with a click and Prowl immediately plugged his cable into the port moaning as he did so. He withdrew his mate's cable and plugged it into himself and waited for their systems to synchronize. Both of them ignored the bits of stray code in their systems, their processors treating them as insignificant since they had resided there for quite some time and Ratchet had not removed them. They enjoyed the gentle comfort of interface and moving freely within one another's processors. Soft moans and sounds of pleasure filled the room.

Prowl next opened his sparkplates exposing his spark chamber. The chamber itself then opened exposing the spark. Jazz gazed at the beautiful spark until Prowl gave him a not-so-gentle nudge and tapped his mate's sparkplates once indicating he wanted his lover to follow suit. The saboteur opened his sparkplates and the chamber itself. The space between them filled with the soft glowing light of their sparks. Prowl gazed at his bondmate's spark and smiled again. Suddenly, the dataflow between them ceased abruptly and he leaned forward looking hard at the spark below him. Jazz was so lost in the long denied pleasure that it took him a moment to gather his thoughts when Prowl stopped sending data pulses. "Prowler?" he asked in a haze, feeling shock through the other's field.

Prowl continued to look at the spark before him and then murmured, "What in the Pit is THAT?"

Through the comm link he screamed, /Ratchet!/

* * *

Ratchet was in the rec room enjoying some well-deserved energon. The twins had attempted to prank Wheeljack which had to be the dumbest thing they could do. The engineer was used to things exploding but the twins had made the mistake of using one of his detonation timers for their confetti bomb and it backfired on them. It would have been funny if Ratchet hadn't spent the better part of the day picking bits of confetti out of the most unlikely places.

The medic sat on the couch beside Hound who was watching another television show. This one was about human babies. It was interesting to watch but it made Ratchet very glad that Cybertronians had emerged from the Well of Sparks. There was no need to raise young; each bot had emerged and was immediately placed into a caste and a job. They had to have specialized training but every bot already knew how to walk, communicate, and consume fuel. The thing that saddened him greatly was that there would be no more Cybertronians. They were a dying race since the AllSpark had been lost to the stars.

His thoughts were interrupted by the frantic comm of the SIC.

* * *

Ratchet stared into Jazz's spark chamber trying to ignore the pacing of his mate on the other side of the medberth. When he had the saboteur open his sparkchamber he had been shocked at the growl from Prowl. The SIC was growling at him? He looked for another moment and then saw what had been the source of the Praxian's uncharacteristic agitation. Ratchet offlined his optics thinking they were glitched. There was a second spark in the sparkchamber. It was smaller and hovered close to Jazz's spark. He ran a few scans and recorded some data before he had Jazz close his chestplates not wanting to distress his mate longer than he had to. Prowl relaxed somewhat when the exposed spark and whatever it was beside it were again protected.

Ratchet leaned back against the medberth behind him and watched as Prowl gently helped Jazz to sit and protectively wrapped an arm around his mate before looking up at him. "What is happening?"

Ratchet remained silent and tried to put the pieces together. Sometimes a spark had emerged from the Well back on Cybertron and immediately split with the two halves each going into separate frames. That had been the case with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. In those cases, each portion was the same size. What happened to Jazz was different. When a pair bonded like Prowl and Jazz did, a piece of each spark detached from each and filled the space in the other. Even when one member of bonded pair deactivated, the spark of the mate would remain whole even while it weakened from the breaking of the bond until the spark returned to the Well. There were never any cases of pieces simply breaking off. Even when a bot took spark damage, the spark itself would remain whole. This was completely beyond anything the medic had seen before. Then he thought of humans and it suddenly made sense but it simply was not possible. He checked the readings again.

"Ratchet?" Prowl pleaded.

The medic ignored the tactician and studied the data. The small object orbiting Jazz's spark had characteristics and signatures of both mechs but it was also different. He took a step back from the monitor and called Optimus.

* * *

"Ratchet, tell us what is going on," Prowl demanded. "We need to know what is wrong with Jazz."

The medic turned toward the door as it opened and the leader of the Autobots stepped inside. Ratchet promptly locked the doors which caused a growl from Prowl. This startled Optimus and he stopped his advance taking in the stance of the SIC protecting his mate.

"Ratchet?" Optimus questioned.

The red and white mech vented sharply. "I'm not sure how to explain this. You know how I haven't been able to explain the anomalies in Prowl's and Jazz's codes?"

Optimus nodded.

Ratchet hesitated because what he was about it say sounded insane. "Jazz has a tiny spark orbiting his own. As the humans would say, he is pregnant."

"WHAT?" shouted three voices in unison.

* * *

It had been chaos in the medbay for quite some time while Ratchet tried to calm the frantic bots. He was feeling glitched as well. Jazz had gone completely hysterical shouting at Prowl and calling him every unkind name known to Cybertron and he made some up as well. His mate stepped back under the verbal assault but when Optimus took a step closer to the saboteur, Prowl turned and attacked their leader and did some impressive damage before Ratchet was able to inject a sedative into him.

Optimus staggered under the attack. While the Praxian was smaller than himself, Prowl acted possessive and deranged. Once he was subdued, Jazz turned his tirade on the medic. Ratchet ignored him while he repaired the damage to Optimus. He then directed Optimus to a far corner of the room and began the task of calming Jazz. He made no progress until Prowl finally onlined again and the two of them huddled in a corner as far away from Optimus as possible.

Ratchet stood in the middle of his medbay where he could referee any further hostilities. Eyeing everyone warily, he began to speak. "It appears that at some point when Prowl and Jazz sparkmerged, they produced another spark. That spark resides in Jazz's sparkchamber and orbits his own. His change in behavior is consistent with what a human female begins to experience starting a few weeks after conception. The changes to his behavior subroutines registered as normal since nothing is technically wrong with him. Likewise, Prowl's systems must have detected the presence of the new spark and his subroutines took the attributes of a protective father."

Optimus interrupted at that point. "Ratchet, we are not human. This is hardly a normal process for a Cybertronian."

Ratchet sighed. "I know. However, we have been here on Earth for a long time." He raised a servo at the start of protest from everyone else in the room. "Remember, our ship crashed here a long time ago while we were all in stasis. I can't say how the planet has affected us."

Prowl, being ever logical stated, "This makes no sense Ratchet. Cybertronians do not reproduce. Sparks emerge from the Well." He said no more with the expression on his faceplates making it clear that there was no argument.

Ratchet did have a response though. "On this planet, life finds a way."

Optimus said nothing, lost in thought, feeling a flicker of hope for the future.


End file.
